NY (OR NOT) MEMORABILIA

I am hanging around in East Greenbush, NY, an area sandwiched between Albany and Schenectady.  Killing time, I'm enjoying the local Cracker Barrel.  I have a lovely breakfast of eggs, bacon, and biscuits, sitting at a table by myself, sipping unlimited tea refills.  I even get extra honey, which makes me ridiculously happy for some reason.

Once I've finished my breakfast, I decide to do some indoor "window" shopping in the main store part of Cracker Barrel.  I am not going to lie: I love Cracker Barrel stores.  They smell good, and they have lots of cool booty.  The stores are set up with little themes everywhere: Americana, holiday, cowboy, peacocks, beach, kids' stuff, and candy, among others.  It's amazing how they can fit all these different mini-shops within the limited store space they have.

I am tempted to buy Turkish Taffy just for the heck of it, but I know it won't taste the same as I remember.  Or, perhaps it will, and I will have forgotten that I don't actually like Turkish Taffy.  Either way, I pass it by.  I do end up with a Reese's peanut butter cup and a peppermint patty, so I do not escape the candy unscathed.

As I'm leaving the store, I spot the discount sports stuff.  There are a bunch of Syracuse hats, which is weird since I'm actually in Saint Rose country, but I suppose Saint Rose memorabilia doesn't really sell as hotly as does 'Cuse junk.  There is a bunch of NY Rangers stuff (key chains, glasses, shirts), which I don't mind.  I'm a Rangers fan, anyway, when I'm not rooting for the Bruins.  Well, not necessarily just the Rangers.  I'm a huge fan of the NHL Original Six -- even Montreal has finally grown on me enough to be tolerable.

Thankfully, there isn't a single NY Yankees item in the entire store.  That's right: not one Yankees insignia to assault my senses.  It's all Mets stuff.  My dad, a Western Massachusetts guy, used to say that most of his neighbors had been Mets fans, not Red Sox fans.  Since I'm just over the Massachusetts border, I guess it's safe to make a mock cheer of "Go, Mets" and still return home with my skin on when I encounter my rabid Red Sox friends and family.

Also, there is not one single NY Jets item in the store, either.  Nope, not even on the huge discounted sale rack (what a surprise).  There is only Giants gear.  I guess in addition to being Mets country, it must be Giants country, too, which is comforting in a weird way.  I need a new team, anyway.  My NE Patriots are starting to sound like a soap opera, and I don't tolerate that shit at all.

No matter.  It's still a huge relief when I cross the border on the way home and stop at a rest area.  Outside the building is a kiosk of all Boston-based items: sports stuff, Boston-themed handbags, Boston t-shirts...  I breathe a sigh of relief.  It's good to get away, but it's good to get home again, too.  It's even better when NY can be done without a single need to spit on the ground and mumble, "Damn Yankees.  Damn Jets.  Yankees and Jets suck."